TGA: Her Burden
by Squishie
Summary: How Hera came to isolate herself and become the cold and cruel goddess she often seems to be.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Heya! So, again, this is fleshing out ideas and storylines from The Great Awakening that I wanted to get out, but couldn't find the space. Thank you so much for the feedback so far! I am glad my interpretations have been interesting and not too bizarre or out-of-character. :) I have a keen fascination on the relationship between Zeus and Hera, and since I've already given (some) of Zeus' point of view, here is Hera's! **

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><p>"You put too much thought in his intentions," Rhea offered as she twisted the spider's silk into a single thread. She pulled back the longest one and she briefly measured its length against her arms before carefully braided the fine pieces together. The titan only quickly eyed her pacing daughter, Hera, who had spent the night off Olympus.<p>

"Do I?" Hera answered defensively as she pressed her index finger against her lip, staring at nothing as she spun around again to walk over her previous steps. "Ever since Ares was born, he's been obsessed with that prophecy. How is that not directly related to his – _affairs_?"

"My dear," Rhea sighed as her fingers delicately wove together the end of the strand. Able to release it on top of her pile, she patted the seat next to her. "Please sit down."

"Mother, you're not helping!" the frustrated goddess blurt out, turning to face a calm Rhea. Hera placed a hand on her chest, pushing against herself to feel some sort of restraint. "He's mocking me!"

"He does not mean it so," she offered before pointing to the seat more forcefully. "Sit."

It was not a suggestion the second time around and no matter how high her daughter climbed, Hera was still her child in Rhea's eyes. The tone was taken immediately and the Queen obliged, walking to the chair and sitting down quickly. The pair were silent as Rhea reached out once more for the silk and began weaving again, nodding her head towards the untouched spindle. Hera's noise curled up slightly but she begrudgingly reached out for the fine silk. Only when she began to weave did the larger titan settle into conversation.

"Your father was consumed by this prophecy," she began quietly, her eyes focused on the delicate thread between her fingers. "He was always a passionate man, but the prophecy warped his nature. He became cruel and malevolent, seeing everything around him as a fulfillment of the prophecy. In the end, his paranoia wrote his doom – not Moros' words."

"Is this supposed to help?" Hera asked as her hands fell into her lap and she looked to her mother incredulously. "Zeus already is paranoid!"

Rhea smiled slightly when she realized how her daughter took the story and she waved a hand in the air, silently begging her pardon.

"No, Hera my dear, that's not what I meant," she explained as she reached over, tapping her daughter's wrist to remind her to continue spinning; Hera did nothing. "I mean that often we create our own problems by worrying over them."

"Why did I come to you," the Olympian muttered on her breath as she threw her silk into the pile and stood up. Rhea did not falter from her job and although she heard every word, her face did not change. Hera reached a hand up to her head, beginning to run her fingers through her hair and then grabbed it for support. The frustration of having no support from those that feared her husband and no sympathy from her mother made Hera feel isolated and out of control. She could do nothing but complain and even then, no one dared agree with her. With her mother as the final straw, blaming her rather than him, she kicked the chair she had previously been sitting in and let out an aggravated yell. Rhea finally looked up from her fingers, giving a disapproving look but saying nothing. "You're supposed to **help** me, mother! Not tell me to shut up and bear it!"

"You are a queen now, sweetheart," Rhea sighed, lowering her eyes and shaking her head. "That is exactly what are you to do."

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><p>"Get out!" Hera snapped at the attendants in the room as she waved them out, away from the newborn god. They each abruptly stopped what they were doing, nodded or bowed and rushed out, uneasy to be in the room with her in this state. When the door closed behind the final girl, Hera was able to do what she could not in front of anyone else; she collapsed on the floor, her face falling into her hands and she quietly sobbed to release all the pain and frustration. The world around her was simpler when there was conflict; at birth, the solution was escape and after that, it was war with the titans. With their marriage, Hera now had risen to the top and yet was crushed by her very position. In battle, she was free to move where she pleased, striking at whichever enemy she fancied. She had absolute freedom in that regard and when she agreed to marry Zeus, she lost it all.<p>

The weight of the situation pressed on her shoulders and she slouched forward, nearly placing her arms on the ground. The only thing she could feel in public was anger without risking respect and her anger was no threat in comparison to Zeus'. As she cried what she could out, she hadn't heard the small movements from the crib, nor the tiny feet that approached her. She gasped slightly when the small, warm hands reached out for her and she peeked through her fingers to see her son, standing with his arms out and his face confused. Slowly, she reached her arms out to engulf him and pulled him into a tight hug. She placed her hand on his back and closed her eyes, letting his hug comfort her.

"Oh, Ares," she whispered to him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. She had meant to escape anyone seeing her in this state and in doing so, she had exposed to her son to her weakest moment. Hera used a free hand to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. "Think better of me when you're older."


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't long before Hera was due again, but the mood the second time around was less jovial than the first. Zeus had not only conceived twins from his affair with Leto, but he had promptly announced their ascent into the council when Apollo and Artemis had fended off monsters only days after their birth. It had taken twice the time for him to accept his son by her, Ares, into the fold. Many had rumored that Zeus announced it in spite of Hera, who had sent the monsters very monsters the twins defeated. In any case, his actions had not gone unnoticed.

"You're fairly calm about it all," Demeter noted as she attended Hera in her garden, plucking those her sister found unattractive. The pregnant goddess had a hand on her stomach as she walked down the clean walkway, her face poised and calm, though she felt much different.

"I have little choice," she replied simply as she reached a hand out for a blooming orchid. She studied it carefully and even stepped closer to it, feeling the thickness of the pedal and inspecting its dark purple stigma. "He angers when I anger, he defends those I mean to punish and he rewards children to punish me. If you know any further course of action I could take, I welcome it."

Demeter frowned as she knew Hera to be fierce, stubborn and strong; to hear her bending in defeat was difficult to believe, let alone permit to happen. The earthen goddess turned to follow her blonde sibling and she reached out, touching her arm.

"You're giving up?" the brunette asked her queen, adding a tone of confusion in hopes of sparking her passion once again. When Hera did not turn around or respond to her, Demeter reached out to touch to her arm. "Sister…"

"Do **not** call me that," Hera snapped suddenly, pulling her arm from Demeter's grasp and spinning around to face her. Her face was lit by a familiar rage as she stepped closer to the earthen goddess and pushed her back forcefully. "I know that which you carry! I know it is _his_!"

Demeter stepped back, her eyes immediately large from shock and her hand clasped over her mouth. She had known early on and hadn't quite been sure how to go about it, worrying over this exact moment; she had thought she had more time. Demeter's brown hair fell in front of her eyes as she closed them, flashes of that day coming back, flooding her as instantaneously as the guilt she had attempted to bury deep down. Though she opened her mouth to speak, she was given no time or thought to defend herself.

"I supported you against Poseidon when the worst of it all came crashing down on _you_!" Hera hissed, pointing to her sister who "You see me struggle with my husband's infidelity consistently and here you stand, begging me to fight him when you carry his seed like all the rest!"

"I couldn't refuse him," Demeter whispered, turning her head away to escape Hera's hateful stare.

"Could you not?" Hera quipped immediately, overpowering the harvest goddess' quiet demeanor easily. "You mean to mock me worse than any other! I granted you asylum from marriage and you repay your debt in **this**!"

"Please, Hera," Demeter tried to calm her, reaching her hands in hopes of connecting with her. The goddess moved back, however, throwing her arms in the air and refusing. "It's not like that.."

"Then tell me, _sister_, what exactly is it?" Hera asked through clenched teeth, wincing suddenly that gave Demeter pause. When the queen pressed her hand on her stomach, the harvest goddess' eyes opened wide and she gasped, reaching out to support her but Hera refused; she stepped back and pushed her hands away. "Don't touch me!"

"Let me help," Demeter insisted but Hera shouted again and stepped back, but this time she was in pain as she put both hands on her stomach and leaned forward.

"Help?" she barely could laugh between the contractions, shaking her head as she tried to bite through the pain. "That's a good one."

The familial trait of rage that the six share flashed across Demeter's face despite her strong efforts to keep it controlled. She was there when Hera delivered Ares and every other babe on Olympus. She knew when a woman was pregnant long before the mother herself knew. To deny her aid in this moment was an insult she could not bear. She reached out yet again to help her sister without asking and the two struggled; Demeter grabbed Hera's wrists, trying to force her into calming, but the goddess would not relent. She screamed out, denying Demeter further and fought against her fiercely. When she yanked her wrists back, Demeter lost her balance and only by grabbing onto the tree to her left did she avoid falling completely. As Hera groaned, falling to her knees and grabbing the earth for support, Demeter slammed her fist into the sturdy bark of her creation. She spun around, throwing an arm into the air with a final huff as she stormed out, leaving the queen on the floor of the garden to deliver alone.

Hera cried out in pain when she looked to see Demeter gone, wishing she hadn't been so proud. Hestia was too nervous to help her and no man would dare aid in such a _feminine_ event. Though she felt wounded by Demeter's condition, Hera now realized she had isolated herself from her final ally and friend. The tears formed her eyes due to both her contractions and that thought, but she wiped them away before they could fall. She needed to be stronger than this, for herself and her child. Clearing her mind, she closed her eyes and focused on the task at hand. It didn't take long; this time had been much easier than Ares, for the babe slid out easily in one long, strong push. Hera let out a gasp when it was over, lifting her robes to see a beautiful baby girl laying in the dirt happily. The goddess smiled, breathing heavily as she reached down to pull up and she carefully started cleaning her off with her robes.

"Eileithya," Hera whispered to her, naming her in that instant and she leaned forward, kissing the baby's forehead. She brought the child to her chest, closing her eyes as she stayed kneeling in the garden.


	3. Chapter 3

"And this is my concern because…?" Hera asked as she surveyed a scroll, barely having moved her eyes up to look at the distraught Apollo.

"Because he means to make him one of us!" the sun god explained exacerbated, his arm flying wildly about to indicate the subjects who were not around. "He's a thief! And a liar!"

"I fail to see this as my concern," Hera replied calmly again, a single eyebrow lifting on her forehead as she finally looked to the younger god over the scroll. He frowned, clearly uncomfortable in her presence. He shifted from one foot to the next, trying to avoid eye contact without seeming weak. The goddess sighed, placing the scroll down on the table next to her. "Hermes has proved himself a useful companion of Olympus. His nature may be contrary to your own, but it does not demean his accomplishments. I will not fight this for you."

"But –" Apollo began but it was his final word; the look Hera flashed him was a warning that he heeded immediately. He gave a stiff bow and turned out of her room, escaping within seconds. She took a few steps towards the door and began to shut it when her large husband appeared from the right, his arm perched against the wall and that terrible, lustful grin spread across his face. She looked up at him, pausing only for a moment before she continued to shut the door.

"Hey!" Zeus exclaimed as he put his hand out, stopping the door's movement and opened it completely, only to see Hera turn her back on him and walk into her room. "What's this about?"

"I have nothing to say to you," she easily spat out, reaching out for a shawl to pull over her shoulders as a further warning she was in no mood to greet him favorably.

"Even better," he joked as he took a step into the room but he froze when she turned around, glaring at him. Somehow he had been unable to read her cold nature, forcing her into being blunt.

"Do you mistake me for one of your conquests?" she rhetorically demanded, taking a step forward as she clutched a portion of her shawl. "And before you even dare: don't answer that. I will not be your fuck for tonight. Go find someone else."

"Hear that?" Zeus shouted out with a laugh, his grin causing more anger to flare up in her. His arms spread out wide, as if taking her stinging attacks with ease and he spun around, looking for witness to confirm her words. "Now where is a scribe when you need one?"

Hera rolled her eyes but stood her ground; this was _her_ room and should she not wish him there, he was to leave. That was her firm belief, but unfortunately, Zeus did not step further out, but rather closer to her.

"My dear wife," he began, his arms lowering to land on her shoulders but she dodged him quickly. Suddenly the corners of his mouth began to lose their upward turn and he realized this was no game or bicker. She was, in fact, denying him and expecting him to leave. His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to face her. "And what could it be this time?"

"Why, how should I know, my _dear_ husband?" she contended with dripping sarcasm. "Do you intend to make anymore of your children a part of the council?"

"Ah, of course," he groaned, rolling his eyes upwards. "Hermes."

"No," she scolded quickly, his nose turning up at his mannerisms. "No, Zeus, it is not Hermes. It is not Athena or Apollo or Artemis or Maia or Metis. It is **all** of them! You welcome my humiliation with open arms and expect me to love them all the same. You come to my bed, unashamed and find yourself forgiven if I don't fight you off like all your virgin victims!"

"I don't need your forgiveness!" he proclaimed, nearly stepping over her last words.

"Then you don't need my BED!" she shrieked in reply and the words clashed against him like a sword. Immediately he had felt the threat and he reached out, grabbing only one of her wrists as the other she had moved in time. She let out a terrible scream, kicking her leg up to slam it into his thigh. It did nothing to deter him; he pushed her back against a wall and put his face a mere inch close to hers.

"You will not deny me what is **mine**," he threatened as his hand squeezed around her wrist. Hera's free hand flew out, slapping him across the face. The sharp pain that stung his face caused him to pause and realize what he was doing; Hera noticed the change in his face and took that moment to kick him again. In his stunned state, he released her and stepped back, his eyes floating between his hands as if to question what they had been doing without his consent. Hera leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, breathing heavily from the panic she had felt but successfully hid.

"Get out," she whispered as she placed a hand on her chest, trying to calm herself.

"Hera, you know I didn't mean that," Zeus replied quietly, finally looking up at her and feeling the shame of his actions washing over him.

"I said get out," she repeated again in a calm tone, but her heart was racing. She opened her eyes to glare at him, warning him to heed her demand. He shook his head, for although he knew it would be better to leave, it was contrary to his nature to leave the situation as it stood – or to take anyone else's order.

"I love you, lamb," Zeus stated honestly, stepping towards her with his arms open in hopes she would take his offer. She shook her head, tempted to reply but she simply closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. Though she would fight him again, she would rather not incite his blind rage so soon again. He sighed, taking a hand to run through his hair and he looked to the ground, trying to come up with something to fix this. "I bed them once, never twice. They aren't … the same, no matter who it is. I always come back to you –"

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Hera snapped, pushing against the wall but following it, just out of his reach. He moved to follow her and she stopped walking, turning to face him and stared him down.

"I love you," he repeated as he reached out to take her hand and slowly, though at first she resisted, he pulled her in towards him.

"I love you when I'm angry. I love you when you try to kill my children," he grinned slightly at that and her nose turned up a bit. "I love you when you think you can beat me. And I love you when you do win. No matter what I do and how terrible you see me, I love you."

By this time, he had her against his chest and she stared down to the ground, fighting the urge to pull away from him. He was comforting; he was warm, inviting and it felt good to let it go, to enjoy his company no matter how terrible he treated her. She frowned as she hid her face in his chest, becoming angry with herself for not fighting this further. But she was tired of being angry at him; it had been so long since they last were this close and though she would regret it tomorrow, she collapsed on him with a content sigh and let him hold her up in his strong arms.

"I love you," he whispered again as he kissed the top of her head. "even when I'm an asshole."


End file.
